Esper

How to Murder your Brother
A Dark Knights Stroll

Drevin Freedmont strode confidently down the dusty passage. Candle light flickered, casting dancing shadows across the cold stone walls. Echoing, his steps sounded a rushed gait, reminding Drevin of when he was child, frightened to walk down these lonely halls, jumping at the scurry of a mouse or his older brother Stefan whispering demonic sounds to frighten him. He missed Stefan. Although Stefan was ten years older, he had a always been closer to him, than with Dario. Dario was only 3 years his senior, which should of meant that they would grow up close, but Dario was also a mean spirited child, rotten to the core from an early age.

Stefan had followed directly in their father’s footsteps, training with the best swordsmen and battle-masters, serving as an officer in the Royal Army, and finally receiving his knighthood, ensuring his right to rule his father’s lands. After his service, he had returned home, to help their aging father run the lands.

Dario was not like their father. He was impatient with his battle instructors, jealous of Stefan, and angry at being born second. But Dario was strong and loved violence. He quickly volunteered for the Royal Army, where he was stationed with a unit that fought beside dust legionnaires, keeping the orcs at bay. It was here that Dario’s perverted and twisted love for the “Northman” first took hold. He became obsessed that humans were stronger than all other races, and must worship the old gods and take back the lands from all other races. And so, when he returned home, he returned with these notions, and immediately began bumping heads with the more idealistic Stefan.

So, it came to pass, on the day after their father’s death, while Drevin was away with Royal Army, Stefan was found in the barn, his head split open. Dario, being the oldest living heir, was quick to claim the title of knight, and claim his father’s land. He ruled his older brother’s death an accident, and began slowly enslaving the people of the village to his way. When Drevin returned from his service some years later, his home was a barren waste of despair, he no longer recognized. But, he was a loyal brother, so he soon found his spot, by his brother’s side, cleaning up his brother’s messes, one after the other. His soul hurt and he always felt unclean, as if in oily putrid slime was constantly crawling over his skin, but he stayed out of loyalty.

Until today that was. Today, while searching his brother’s study for maps that the Legion captain could use, he had discovered something. He had not wanted to believe that his brother was a traitor, a monster, or worse. He knew his brother was unstable, and was cruel, but not this. Holding the ledger in his hand, as he walked down the hall, he was trying to decide what to do. This was damning. Not just to his brother, but the family name could be stripped from them. What to do?

Abruptly, he came to a sudden stop in an alcove that was lit by the flickering candles. He could not let his brothers vile ways destroy what his father had built. His hand with the ledger lifted to the candle, the paper sending tendrils of smoke through the air as it slowly started to darken and then burn. He hated seeing it burn, the names of children that his brother had ordered his men to kidnap from surrounding villages, and then sold as sacrifices to that cult in the woods. He wished the families would know what had happened to their beloved ones, but he could not let this destroy his family. He would have to take vengeance for his family. He would have to destroy the other evidence of these crimes.

A few hours later, he sat back at his brother’s. . . no, his desk, his feet resting on the fine oak top. It was odd really, he didn’t feel to terrible at all. His brother’s body would be found in the morning, having slipped into unconsciousness and never recovered from his injuries the previous evening. A smirk crossed his face as he contemplated how odd an end it was for such a violent and vibrant fighter, to be smothered with his own pillow. No, his brother hadn’t been the hard part. Tracking down and killing the elite 6 guards his brother had used in all the kidnappings, that had been difficult. But, they would be found in the morning to, having had too much to drink in the woods, unfortunately seeking a short respite in a bear cave. At, least the bear had seemed appreciative for the meal.

No, things were not that bad at all, he thought as he stood up, retrieving a bundle of rolled maps and tucking them under his arm. Now to go deliver these maps to that Legionnaire Captain, she’s probably getting pretty impatient.

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